


Sick and Hot

by alexdamien



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Comedy, Fever, M/M, Sickness, a series of sexy health professional costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexdamien/pseuds/alexdamien
Summary: Camus gets hot, and Milo does his best to help him feel better.





	Sick and Hot

It was not that Camus didn’t appreciate Athena resurrecting them again, but the truth was that the bodies she gave them were very new, and very fragile. Which meant, when Mu caught some flu from someone in the market, it took little more than a day for half of the Golden Saints to also be sick with the same flu.

Including Camus, which he felt as a very personal punishment by fate. He routinely took his kids for a walk in _Siberia_ for god’s sake! He should not be stuck in bed, feeling miserable and sneezing near constantly. He groaned and rolled around in the bed, when he heard a knock on the door of his bedroom. That could only be one person.

“What do you want Milo?” he yelled.

“How did you know it was me?” asked the other through the door.

“Who else could it be? Mu and Shaka are sick. Aldebaran too.”

“What if it was Saga?”

Camus rolled his eyes. “Saga would rather wait for me to die of a clogged nose than set his foot here. What is it? Open the door, I’m not moving from here.”

Milo snickered through the door. “Well, you’re right there. Saga would probably leave you to die. But I, on the other hand, came to take care of you,” he said, and opened the door.

He strolled inside wearing the most tacky sexy doctor costume Camus had ever seen, and carrying a basket in his arms.

Camus groaned and let his head fall back into the pillows. At any other moment he would have rolled his eyes, but be secretly excited about the fact that he could see most of Milo’s legs. But he really was feeling terrible.

“Are you serious?” he asked with a sigh.

Milo sat on the edge of the bed. “Completely serious. I bet you didn’t even go to the doctor when you started feeling sick and just locked yourself here, feeling miserable,” he said. He pulled a bottle of water and a few boxes of medicine from inside his basket. “I got the same medicine the doctor prescribed for the others, since you all seem to have the same thing. Have you even had anything to eat?”

Camus looked up at Milo as he pulled a bottle of orange juice and bags of cookies out of the basket and placed everything on the bedside table.

“You’re so beautiful, thank you,” mumbled Camus, without fully realizing he had spoken out loud.

Milo lifted his eyebrows at him. “You’re worse than I thought you were. Are you hallucinating? Shaka already has a fever and he won’t stop reciting the great compassion sutra,” said Milo. He leaned over Camus, who lifted his arms and embraced him.

Milo was caught off guard, and his white heels slipped, making him fall on the bed next to Camus.

“Oof, still got quite some strength. That’s good,” laughed Milo, entwining his bare legs with Camus’ pajama clad ones.

Camus buried his face against Milo’s neck, basking in the scent of the sea that seemed to come from every strand.

“You’re an idiot,” mumbled Camus, rolling on top of Milo, who wrapped his legs around him.

“Me? You’re the one who locked yourself in your bedroom at the first sniffle,” said Milo, rubbing at Camus’ cheek with his thumb. “Hey, you’re pretty hot.”

Camus kissed him, letting his hands roam down Milos’ sides to his hips, and then lower and lower.

“What did you expect, coming here wearing that,” gasped Camus, his hands getting past the edge of the dress, touching Milo’s exposed skin.

“No, I’m serious. I think you have a fever,” said Milo, pushing him off and rummaging around the basket for a thermometer.

Camus did have a fever, and he had in fact, been basically hallucinating for most of the conversation. It turned out that he had caught the worst strain of the sickness, and they had to call an actual (not sexy at all) doctor to come see him.

A real mood killer, but on the other hand, Camus was recovered within a couple of days.

On the other, _worse_ hand, Milo caught his sickness almost immediately.

Being a good friend/comrade/lover, Camus gathered all the medicines and food into the basket that had been left forgotten in his bedroom and made his way to the Scorpio house and knocked on the door to Milo’s bedroom.

“Oh, my, who could it be?” asked Milo with a nasal voice from inside.

Camus rolled his eyes and opened the door. “I brought you something to eat,” he said in the most serious tone he could.

Milo pouted from the bed, where he was laying with the covers up to his neck. He looked flustered and his nose had a reddish tint that made his look not only sick, but also much younger.

“I thought there would be a sexy nurse,” said Milo.

“You thought wrong,” said Camus, setting the basket on the bedside table.

“That’s what _you_ think!” said Milo, and pulled the covers off, revealing that he was wearing a pink sexy nurse costume.

“Where on earth are you getting all of these??” asked Camus, outraged at the idea that Milo might have an entire closet full of sexy costumes without his knowledge.

Milo sniffled and shrugged. “Aphrodite has a bunch of them.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed it, and if you did please consider leaving a comment or kudos it would mean a lot to me ;)


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